


Monsters and Men

by deandratb



Series: Tumblr Micro Requests [20]
Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 17:05:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12414348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deandratb/pseuds/deandratb
Summary: Prompt fic; Liz visits Red unexpectedly. Post-1x03.





	Monsters and Men

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimed. Prompt from [imakayak-hearmeroar](https://imakayak-hearmeroar.tumblr.com): **"How do you even sleep at night?"**

She goes to his hotel at two in the morning.

Luckily, Agent Malik doesn’t work the night shift very often--Liz feels safer encountering Dembe at Red’s door; he doesn’t seem interested in her, and she doubts he reports anything to the Bureau that Red doesn’t tell him to.

Red doesn’t like to tell them anything, so that makes this easier.

When Dembe just stares her down, waiting, Liz sighs. “Can I come in or what?” Her whole body is still in pain from what Stanley put her through; she doesn’t have the patience for this.

He looks at his watch, then knocks lightly behind him.

“Yeah?” Red’s voice is sleep-rough, and she can hear the rustle of starched bedding through the door.

“It’s me,” Liz says, saving Dembe the trouble.

There’s a pause, then shuffling footsteps. A pajama-clad Red opens the door and nods at his bodyguard. “It’s okay, Dembe.”

She enters, and is surprised when Red shuts only the two of them in.

Catching her expression, he smiles ruefully. “I doubt you came here at this hour to stab me again. Please, sit."

Liz takes a chair near the window, watching him sit on his rumpled bed.

“What can I do for you, Lizzie?”

“You could stop calling me that, for one thing,” she snaps back, surprising herself. “You don’t know me.”

He lets that pass. “What else? Why are you here?”

She looks away. “I couldn’t sleep.”

From across the room, Red can see the scrapes and bruises that have bloomed since he last saw her. He wishes he’d gotten to the Stewmaker sooner. He wishes he could have killed the man twice.

“That’s understandable,” he says. “But it doesn’t explain why you’ve come.”

“I need answers,” she tells him, shifting in her seat. “You have them. Tell me what you know about my husband. My parents. Tell me...how I ended up here.”

Though firm, Red’s voice is also kind. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Elizabeth, but you won’t be getting any answers tonight.”

Before she can argue, he continues. “However, I can give you what you really came here for.”

“What do you mean, what I really came for? Like I told you, I want the truth.”

“Not to sound like a movie villain,” Red says with a smirk, “but I fear you’re not ready for the truth.”

He stands, smoothing out his comforter and tugging the sheet back into place, talking all the while.

“You’re hurting in ways you’ve never felt before,” Reddington says gently. “You’re facing nightmares, too, I imagine, and your brain keeps turning over the sequence of events, trying to make sense of it all.”

She watches him warily as he walks over to her. Despite everything, his voice is soothing. Comforting, even.

“You need rest. Safety. With everything so...fraught, at home, it’s no wonder you can’t sleep.” 

He holds out a hand. “You can get a few hours sleep here, if you like. I’ll have Dembe stay at the door while you do.”

She hates feeling weak, hates that the idea appeals to her, but nothing he’s said is wrong. And if she goes home, she’ll just be lying next to Tom again, wondering if she really knows him, or if her entire life is a lie.

It’s Reddington who put these doubts in her head in the first place; she knows he’s pulling her strings.

She’s just too shaken and tired to care tonight.

Liz lets him take her hand and help her up. “Where will you be?”

“Oh, I’ll call Luli and go for a drive.” He smiles at her, waits while she stretches out on top of the covers. “Maybe we’ll get pancakes. I’ve found that pancakes are especially delicious at two in the morning.”

Red’s cheerful demeanor is jarring when she heard him murder a man only hours before.

“I don’t get it,” she says, watching him gather his clothes and prepare to leave. “After what you’ve done...how do you even sleep at night?” 

He turns, his face carefully blank now. “What other choice is there?”

Frustrated, she rests her cheek on her hand and waits for more. Maybe if she could understand, maybe it would help, somehow. Help beat back the memories of a loving father who was also a monster, or help her understand a loving husband who might not be what he seems.

“You said it yourself, Elizabeth. I no longer have a family. I no longer have...anything.” She catches the pained expression on his face, though it’s gone again in an instant.

“But I have my reasons, for the things that I do. The choices I make. Everyone does, I suppose,” he adds to himself, more quietly.

“Tonight I killed a killer, and I saved your life. That was more than enough for one day.” 

Red puts his hat on, looking both dashing and silly given that he’s still wearing his pajamas, and nods briskly at her in farewell. “I sleep fine.”

She turns away, hearing rather than seeing him leave.

“I hope you do, too,” he murmurs on his way out. “Sweet dreams, Lizzie.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to see more of these, head [here](http://actuallylorelaigilmore.tumblr.com/ask) to request one!


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